


A Christmas Carol, I guess

by cherryberg



Series: Reset AU [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Best Friends, Blood, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Burns, Castles, Churches & Cathedrals, Corpses, Dark Magic, Demons, Evolution, Fiction, Ghosts, Guitars, Gun Violence, Knives, Late at Night, Memes, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Past Lives, Priests, Religion, Reset au, Spirits, Stabbing, Temporary Character Death, implied suicide, revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryberg/pseuds/cherryberg
Summary: Charles Lee is a doofus with a best friend who died and a dead best friend.aND A GUN!





	A Christmas Carol, I guess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soladox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soladox/gifts).



> How do you angst?
> 
> This AU, the Reset AU (@ask-hamilton-reset-au), is made by the feared beast: @soladox.  
> Go yell at her on tumblr.

_Death._

_To both its unsuspecting victims and the bystanders of which have to watch, it’s painful._

_Diagnose someone with it and everyone else will catch something different: Grief._

_Grief, unlike the simplicity of death, has 7 stages and all of them emotionally painful in each their own right._

_Those who have to watch the grievance will pity and on goes the chain of reaction._

_Will it ever stop?_

 

~~Lazcha~~

 

Lee, being the best at his job of replacing candles in the friendly murder-basement, was happily strumming his out-of-tune guitar. What could he say? The murder-basement had some great acoustics! Plus, a song was somehow stuck in his head. Was it called... Wonderwall?

Though his guitar playing was hella loud,  he heard a thump overhead. Lee shrugged it off as Sam tripping over again but, still, he decided to check what was wrong. Common knowledge would be to check on best friends. He meant, they were best friends, right?

Opening the door to the main room, Lee could hardly believe his eyes. Sam seemed like himself, that was one thing for sure, but he swore to Ellyse there was something new with the decor.

Well, upon closer inspection, Lee was sure that this… _man_ was not his Sam. Sam wouldn’t-- He couldn’t-- No…

Last time he checked, Sam didn’t have inky black horns with a void that cried darkness, taking upon a form of a crown that floated above a head of ginger hair, stained with splatters of red that would gladly belong. Sam didn’t have those things yet he was wrapped up in a cosy blanket of red and blue that clashed against each other. Left was the way of lies and deception and red while the right blue held the truth and honesty.

And another thing, his Sam wouldn’t want this kind of mess in the House of Ellyse. Yet the iron smell of blood was strong amongst the carnage of corpses, all burnt and sliced to be unrecognisable. All of them. Littered about carelessly. The teal, the cool, calm teal, which covered nearly every surface to worship the great Goddess Ellyse was now drowned out by a violent red.

Lee approached Sam, who seemed to simply stand and stare at the chaos of which he must’ve created. Lee practically had to parkour across the room to get closer to Sam and the heavy sense of dark magic that surrounded him. Don’t want any blood on these expensive robes, now do we? Sam never turned to watch and snicker but Lee took no offence from it.  Looking at the decor, the way the shade of red fought with the Ellyse blue is not Lee’s kind of colour. Sure, it looks… great… on Sam’s robes but hey! To each their own! If Sam likes it then, sure, it looks stunning!

“Sam? What’s, uh, going on here, bud?” Lee asked with his iconic chuckle, yet it was off in the sense of nervosity and concern. “I was in the other room if you wanted a stab--”

“Lee?” Sam breathed, back still turned to Lee as he sounded as confused and helpless as a stray baby Spado whimpering in the cold, empty streets of Nieuw Nederland.

“Sam?” Lee asked in response, leaning to meet his friend’s face.

Luckily for him, he didn’t need to lean any further (he did and almost tripped into a fun pile of wooden debris and splintery hell) because Sam turned around in such a hurry that the look on his face almost stunned Lee. Those eyes… Heavy with tears, sorrow, and regret but it too had traces of anger and vengeance that lingered and clung. His pupils were still dilated, so much so that Lee could hardly catch a glimpse of the grey irises that he’s learned to love. It must’ve been a short-term side effect from demon possession or, in Sam’s case, possession of dark magic, this one definitely belonging to that of a powerful demon still.

Lee hadn’t noticed before but Sam, or whoever stood before him, was red. Red with blood. Whose blood? Very clearly, Sam’s own. He was bleeding. He was wounded. If he was to be bleeding, then he would’ve been in pain. Then why wasn’t he applying pressure to such a wound? How could he notice eye dilation but not a simple, yet potentially deadly, wound? He’s supposed to be healer, dammit.

Before Lee could move to further to investigate, Sam came stumbling forwards. His arms reaching out to the only other living being in sight. Lee naturally responded by dashing forward, not even bothering to parkour over the long-forgotten bodies of men, all with weapons and lost derogatory words.

“Lee,” Sam said in such a weak voice that it sounded so unlike him but close enough to have Lee’s stomach do flips, “I don’t feel so good.”

“You’re alright,” Lee mumbled in response, trying to be as positive and optimistic as he normally can be as he caught a falling Sam.

“I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know…” Sam muttered, every word coming out from out of his mouth created more pity and empathy and why can’t you just do something, Lee?  “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go, Lee. Please. Please, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go,” He begged and begged and _begged_ , his voice cracking every so often and he cried but Lee didn't understand. _Where are you going?_

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Those were Sam’s last whispered words before his eyes went blank with no expression and his chest stilled. The unnatural horns and crown and the red and blue with the crying void faded with no more use for them anymore. His side wound too did disappear with the demonic appearance.

Although Sam had just fallen into a possibly everlasting sleep, those two last words he had spoken, “I’m sorry”, seemed to be ringing in Lee’s head. The voice, it was just Sam apologising in such a soft way repeatedly, over and over and over again.

Until there was a shift. A shift in his head of who was speaking. It wasn’t Sam’s last apology anymore. It was himself. It was himself apologising. But not quite. The tone and the way he spoke was different but it was definitely himself. There was only one question though: When did he apologise for all of these things and who to? It’s not like he had a good memory, apologising to Sam would definitely be engraved in his brain forever. Nonetheless, the somewhat binary cycle of shifting from voice to voice, apology to apology, went on without any signs of stopping. It would kind of leave the boy to suffer a headache. It went on and repeated like the story of the three ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future (especially Christmas Past or Present) that Sam hated so much but, unlike that silly old story, this cycle of apologies had no meaning nor a purpose.

That was until a new voice emerged and all stopped there.

 

It was _her_.

 

Lee didn’t think he had ever heard her voice before nor did he know why she was apologising, but it struck a chord within him, just as if he was his own guitar. A chill ran up his spine but he shook it off. He shook her off, whoever she is. Lee’s just hearing things. Yeah. That’s right! Just hearing things...

Lee realised that he’d been listening to the voices of the dead for quite some time now, maybe like 10 minutes or so, that he forgot about the vessel. The corpse. The body. The… Well, there was no easy way of putting who, or what, he held. It’s just Sam. Sam. Nothing odd about this great pal of his, Sam. Sam! Sam the man! His main man, Sam--!

“Sam? Sam. Sam, wake up,” Lee gave out another one of his iconic chuckles but, similarly to the last one, it was forced in an attempt to lighten the mood and have everything seem normal. “This isn’t any time for your theatrics, you silly pastor. C’mon!”

Lee did have a plan to smack Sam in the face but decided against it. He had standards for Ellyse’s sake. Plus, there was this, like, real funky ghost... thing. Pigtails with a clip of yellow and a simple dress that makes it clear that she, out of all six gods, followed Ellyse. Oh wow, Ellysian pals already! She seemed kind-hearted and had a soft smile that would melt the ice off of the coldest of hearts but she just felt so… familiar. Sure, she shared similar features to those of their Goddess Ellyse but that wasn’t the problem. Lee didn’t know the problem what the problem was and it was slightly bugging him.

“Who are you? Were you… apologising?” Lee asked calmly, subconsciously stroking Sam’s hair. “Are… Are you the Ghost of Christmas Past?” Huh. Maybe this was a Christmas Carol.

The soul of the late seemed saddened but the sight of his Sam but didn’t say a word. Or maybe she did. Who knows how ghosts communicate! With sealed lips, the disturbed spirit guided the curious pastor outside. Man, it was dark out already. It only made Lee question what Sam was doing at that time. What was he even doing at the time? Ha ha ha, definitely not working on his wicked guitar chords, that’s what.

“So what did you want out here in the cold?” Lee hummed with a slight tone of confusion as he looked around, a dead man in his arms.

The spirit sighed and looked at Lee with such a pained, yet warm expression. It was like she knew him. Gods, it’s like they were already best friends or something! Gasp! What if they were soulmates, right, but like best friends soulmates! That’s something to think about there… Ha ha, soulmate because she’s dead? Okay, I’ll stop now--

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Lee asked with an awkward smile and a friendly giggle, his features looking childish under the complimenting tones from the candlelight, moonlight, and the darkness.

She remained quiet, her figure bright from the moon’s cooling light, as she stared at Sam as if in ponder. Lee respected her silence as it and the stillness of the street carried on. All went one when she turned to look at the richer parts of the Capital, the ones who followed the gold and ruled whilst the poorer people watched in envy.

It took Lee a while to understand what she wanted until it finally clicked.

She wasn’t wishfully watching the bright lights of the rich but, instead, she eyed the castle and those who visited.

“Revival… Of course!” Lee shouted as if he just remembered everything he’d forgotten, his voice echoing the emptiness of the gravel roads.

“Thank you so much, Ellyse Ghost!” Lee giggled as he skipped to the palace as best he could with Sam in his arms. “I wish you the best of luck finding happiness to reach the afterlife!”

The spirit simply waved Lee goodbye with a soft smile of luck, deciding not to stray from the stairs of the Church. Lee found it fair that she didn’t want to go down those. It actually hurt to fall down those steps, you know? Lee, sick of skipping, decided to sprint because it was faster and it was also fun to watch the gravel become cobblestone upon entering the land of the wealthy at a swift speed.

 

“Promise me…”

 

Lee heard her say something for the first time but didn’t quite catch the last bit, which almost sounded like it started with an L, entirely. Something about leaves? It shouldn’t matter though because Lee had a mission to accomplish. Plus, once he looked back to see if she was still there, she wasn’t. She was gone as quick as Lee’s blood during his experiences with knives and their particular owner.

But, hey! Missions are cool! Though, Lee hardly doubted that this one was going to be fun. Who would ever want to see the King?

 

~~Leicha~~

 

Once reached, Lee kicked open the castle door abruptly, panting like a Spado on a hot summer’s day. 

“What is the meaning of--” The King, George, asked but was swiftly interrupted by a rushing pastor who suddenly remembered half-way his marathon to this 24-hour-posh-party-but-building-form castle.

“Look, I come here with nothing but a dead body.” Lee hissed, his breath stolen by the monster known as exercise. “I don’t have any money or firstborns or anything like that. Plus, I hate you and your regal ass but this is the body of the Head of the Church.”

The King rolled his eyes at such a desperate, and frankly brave, soul and scoffed, “So?”

“So?” Lee repeated in shock and disbelief at the gall of such a ruler. “This isn’t just some minor setback, this is--” Lee was interrupted by himself as a result of him coughing. Man, what does exercising do to you and your lungs?

“Sorry…” Lee muttered, mostly to himself, “I just need… a breather… Hold on… Whoo…”

“Look, come back when you have something to report, pastor,” George simply dismissed, yawning as he leaned back in his frivolous throne that could feed most of his own starving people.

Lee, now with anger in his soul, blood, and eyes, placed the poor vessel of once a cheery soul upon the prestigious carpet of the long room and pull out a gun. What did it do? No one knew really. No one but Lee. I mean, who, in this time period, would know what a gun is?

Swiftly, Lee marched up to the King and pointed the weapon at the head of the excuse of a helpful ruler.

 

“ _You. Will. Revive. Him._ ”

 

~~Chalee~~

 

Sam woke in his own bed, his head feeling as if it were sacrificed in a barbaric ritual. Not his own though. Sam thought his rituals where well-organised which made up for the lack of progress…

Sitting up and stretching, Sam realised he never got out of his robes. Silly him. Must’ve fallen asleep while reading or something of the sort.

First thing’s first! Sam, patting about, attempted to located his glasses and slid them on. What were the point of eyes if they need assistance? Sam had always wondered how Lee, a man with such terrible eyesight and memory, was able to see without the need for such expensive equipment.

Second thing on Sam's morning routine was to check if a cross was on him. Any cross, really. Being a pastor, it was very important to have a cross on him to keep away the demons. Only if they could keep away Lee... Sam didn't have a particular favourite but he did notice his lack of worship sticks. Scanning the room, Sam noticed a very simple yet effective cross hanging from his doorknob.

“How did you get there…?” Sam muttered to himself as he got out of bed with a groan as if he were a genie waking up from a decades-long rest.

In all of his morning grumpiness, or was it just normal Sam grumpy, Sam strolled over to the door that led to the rest of his home. Grumbling, Sam snatched the cross, darkened wood with golden accents with a blue gem centred in the intersection, from the door’s handle and was about to return to his bed to continue his morning but noticed something from the corner of his eye.

Swiftly, Sam drew a knife and held it to the neck of this corner invader. Luckily for his peripheral vision, it was Lee. Lee who was both unconscious and drooling. My Ellyse, what a mess he was when he slept opposed to Sam who looked like an angel when he was unconscious. To punish him both for having saliva on his nice timber flooring and for even being in his home, Sam decided to give Lee a wake-up call.

“...sPACITO!” Lee exclaimed as he woke up with a knife in his thigh. “Oh, good morning, Sammy! How was your night?”

“Morning.” Sammy grumbled back, having his back turned to Lee has he made his bed like a decent human being. “What are you doing in my house?”

“No, Sam, what are you doing in _my_ h- ouchie!” Lee winced as he tried to move his stabbed leg.

“Oh my Ellyse, you’re a child,” Sam sighed, throwing a pillow in the face of his co-worker.

“Look how verbally abusive, not physically, you are in the morning!” Lee joked, having another pillow through at him. “I’m getting feathers in my mouth!”

“Alright, get out of my house.” Sam demanded.“You’ve seen my room and, possibly, the rest of my home.”

“I actually climbed in through the window!” Lee informed in such a way that he sounded proud of what he had accomplished. “Come on! Give me a tour!”

“Nope, no. No way. Get out.” Sam shooed. “Seeing your face in the Church is enough for me.”

Lee shrugged as he attempted to stand, letting out a scream that was either equal to or louder than that of a banshee’s.

“Why are you tryiNG TO STAND?!” Sam shouted over the sound of Lee’s screaming, not believing the gall of such a ridiculous man. “i WAS JOKING!” He wasn’t joking. Lee, please get out of the house.

“hhhhHHHHHHAAAAAAAHDJADBHJDHJFBD--”

Moments later, after moments healing and scolding, Lee was right as rain. Not until he got stabbed in a more convenient spot, his stomach, but anything will do as of now because they were in the middle of idle chit-chat.

“Haha, Lee, such a crazy night.” Sam responded sarcastically to Lee’s story of what had happened last night. “So why did you do all that?”

“Well, it’s quite simple!” Lee cheerfully continued to explain. “You see, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgX!”

“Uh huh, uh huh…” Unlike whatever Lee just uttered from his motor mouth, it was clear that Sam was just playing along, honestly taking any story at this point in his relationship with Lee, so long as the story ended with a shank to an anywhere.

“Well, let me tell you, Lee. Last night was so weird, like, I can remember some of it but not all of it…” Sam muttered, ruffling his hair in frustration. “I, like, remember these professional-like people coming in and they wanted to do something and then I sort of blacked out? I dunno… Let’s just go do our jobs of praising Ellyse.”

“I don’t think I can be joining you.…” Lee muttered with that iconic chuckle of his. “I’m sorry.”

Sam, confused, tilted his head at such a statement, “And why not?”

Lee, soft smile and all, broke the only notice important from last night, hands held tight onto the handle of the knife as he pushed it deeper.

 

 

“ _I remember._ ”

  


**Author's Note:**

> hOW DO YOU ANGST?
> 
> You finished yelling at Sola? Alright. Go. Now yell at me, @cherryberg.


End file.
